Sunday Morning, April 19th. Dark Town District.
The dim morning sunlight entered through the only small, dirty, and barred window, illuminating the dust floating in the air, which felt damp and musty. The stone walls of the room were cracked and the plaster was peeling in many places, revealing the older brickwork beneath. From outside, the clamor of merchants beginning to open their stalls, the hurried footsteps on the muddy streets, and the faint chatter of people starting their activities could be-heard.
Fyar woke from his sleep. He sat on the edge of the rickety wooden bed, the thin straw mattress rustling beneath him. He gave a wide yawn, then massaged his stiff neck. This small room was his new residence: it only had a bed, a small table with a chair, and a door leading to a simple bathroom.
His mind immediately recalled the events of last night. He had deliberately ragebait one of the members of a small local gang at the bar, throwing out insults and harsh words to start a fight.
They weren’t as strong as I thought. Are they adventurers? No... since the first time I arrived, I haven’t seen anyone who was injured or carried gear like an adventurer. Hmmm... But well, I hope the bait worked. He rubbed his chin. I also managed to get thirty gold coins yesterday. That means my money is now... five hundred gold coins!. Not bad. at all!
He then took off his shirt and stretched his arms, stretching his sore muscles. After that, he hurried to the bathroom to wash his face.
After leaving the bathroom, Fyar began his morning routine. He did push-ups at a steady pace on the cold wooden floor, his breathing regular. After that, he switched to sit-ups. Finally, he stood in the middle of the room and did shadow boxing for thirty minutes until sweat began to bead on his temples.
Once finished, he took a quick bath using cold water from a bucket, then put on his clothes: a black cotton shirt, worn-out cargo pants, and his long coat. Lastly, he put on his plain white mask.
Fyar then exited his room and went down the creaking wooden stairs to the inn’s bar on the ground floor. The walls here were made of old, moss-covered stones, and the floor was just packed dry earth. Sunlight streamed through a few dirty windows, creating pillars of light in the dim room. Several people were already drunk even though it was still morning, their coarse laughter occasionally heard. In another corner, a group of men was busy gambling with cards, the sharp clink of coins being thrown on the table.
As Fyar came downstairs, everyone who saw him immediately looked down or averted their gaze. The atmosphere became slightly quieter.
What kind of rumor has spread? The Cocky Mask? The Mighty Man who took down two guys? Or the Cool and Handsome Mystery Man? fyar tought
Fyar walked toward the bartender, a bald old man with a scar on his face. "Dry bread and water," Fyar said curtly. The man just nodded and prepared his order.
He sat at the farthest table, in the darkest corner, and began to eat his breakfast. To eat, he had to lift his mask slightly with one hand for each bite, a movement he performed quickly and cautiously, his eyes never stopping their scan of the surroundings.
I wonder how they’re doing? They must be having a nice breakfast. man...I miss Illya. A thin smile formed behind his mask.
Ting!
The front door of the bar opened, making the small bell above it jingle. Three tall men dressed in all black stepped inside. They wore hooded cloaks, black leather armor on their chests, and thick leather belts with several pouches and daggers. Their presence immediately silenced the entire bar.
The patrons looked down, whispering to each other while glancing at Fyar.
Seeing them, Fyar smiled behind his mask. hooh That was fast.
The three men walked straight to his table and stopped. One of them asked, his voice hoarse, "Are you James?"
Fyar drank the rest of his water, then looked up at the man. "Yeah. got fucking problem?"
Fyar deliberately didn’t use the name Binder. He had already turned in his adventurer card at the city gate. Just in case Martis had connections there, he was using another alias.
The three men looked at each other, then nodded. "Follow us," the same man said.
Fyar followed them out of the bar. They walked through the crowded market of Dark Town. Merchants shouted, promoting their wares: pungent-smelling dried fish, hanging cuts of meat, and various second-hand tools. The air was filled with a cacophony of noise and various aromas that stung the nose.
They then turned, entering a narrow, dark alley between two buildings. Filthy water flowed in a stream down the middle of the alley, giving off a fouler smell. The sounds from the main market now faded. Finally, they arrived at a stone building with no windows on the ground floor. Two similarly dressed guards stood on either side of a sturdy wooden door. Both of them stared sharply at Fyar as he entered.
Inside, the room was dim, lit only by a few torches on the walls. Several men in rough clothing sat on long benches, surrounding a large table. At the head of the table sat a man with a thick beard wearing a black robe, staring at Fyar as he entered.
The man smiled. "So, you’re the one..." He gestured with his hand for Fyar to approach and sit in the empty chair before him.
At the Same Time, at the Outgal Inn
Soft morning light entered through the large arched window, illuminating the private room in their suite. A servant had just finished setting up breakfast on a round dining table covered with a clean white tablecloth. The sweet aroma of fruit jam and the savory scent of smoked meat filled the room.
On silver platters, a luxurious meal was served: golden, fluffy bread that was still warm, a bowl of purple star-fruit jam, thin slices of smoked mountain deer meat, and scrambled eggs mixed with pieces of shimmering blue crystal mushrooms.
Rasie immediately took a piece of smoked meat with her fork and ate it quickly. Zaefal calmly cut his bread, spreading jam on top.
Only Illya wasn’t touching her food. She just slowly stirred the eggs on her plate with the tip of her fork. Her gaze was empty, fixed on the fourth, unoccupied chair at their table.
"hahh...I hope Fyar is okay..." Illya finally said, her voice soft.
Rasie swallowed her food in one gulp. "You’ve been worrying about him a lot lately, Illya... could it be? Could it be youu??? no wayyy illya no wayyy???"
Illya’s cheeks turned slightly red. She waved her hands quickly while shyly avoiding Rasie’s gaze. "W-W-what are you talking about raisee?!!" She then speared a piece of meat and immediately ate it.
Rasie chuckled. "purple-haired. He’s probably having stale bread for breakfast right now, with rats for company. Or maybe playing around with entertainers or even gambling." She speared another piece of meat. "He’s definitely fine illya don’t woryyyy."
Illya’s pupils widened. "Entertainers?!? What do you mean, Rasie!!"
"Again... this is the role he chose," Zaefal said. He looked at Illya, then at Rasie. "We can’t worry about him all the time. It will only disrupt our focus. We each have our own tasks."
Illya sighed. She knew Zaefal was right. She picked up a piece of bread and began to eat it without any appetite. "You’re right, you’re right... but still... still..."
Zaefal nodded. "The plan for today. Rasie, you accompany Illya. The social banquet will begin this afternoon. We already managed to negotiate with several parties yesterday... and even spoke directly with Martis."
"Ohhh, leave it to me leave it to mee!" Rasie answered simply, while chewing.
"I will go to the market district," Zaefal continued. "I need to meet a ’contact’ to get a clearer picture of the power structure in this city. And well, maybe meet up with Fyar too."
"Really?!?! You’re going to meet Fyar?!?!" Illya’s eyes sparkled.
Zaefal gave a light laugh and gently patted Illya’s hair. "Well, if it’s possible."
Illya smiled widely, her face looking more energetic.
"A contact huh... since when did you have a contact here zaefal?" Rasie raised her eyebrows, looking at Zaefal.
Zaefal smiled. "The first time we arrived here... while you were lazing around and Illya was busy tidying up her clothes, I went out, remember?"
Rasie made an ’O’ shape with her mouth. "Ahh... I see. That was... fast maybe to fast."
Zaefal’s eyes then narrowed. "Yesterday’s banquet... We didn’t find any strange business talk at the meeting... and also... the people guarding Martis... I feel that the blue-haired elf and the bald man are high-level adventurers... Did you feel it, Rasie?" he said, turning to Rasie.
Rasie nodded. "Yeah... they’re strong... can we beat them, Zaefal?"
Zaefal’s brow furrowed, his fists tightening. "Honestly... I don’t know... I feel their level is far above ours." He then looked back at Illya and Rasie. "After the banquet was over yesterday, I see several people in black robes and a person in purple clothing talking with Martis. I couldn’t watch for long because one of his guards noticed my gaze... not only that, the security was also super tight, and I sensed many very strong people around them..."
Rasie tapped her cheek with her finger, her eyes looking upward. "Could they be the criminals?..."
"It’s possible... We have to be more careful... one small mistake and we could die..." Zaefal said.
They then continued their breakfast in silence for a few minutes. Illya seemed calmer, now focused on the mission before her. Rasie had already finished her plate and was now drinking her juice. Zaefal ate at a steady pace while thinking about his future plans.